


Downtime

by LilacBellfrog



Category: RWBY
Genre: Almost Caught, Anal Sex, Desk Sex, Early Volume 7, M/M, Oral Sex, Under-Desk Blow Jobs, Workplace Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:40:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22327228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilacBellfrog/pseuds/LilacBellfrog
Summary: “My quarters are a five minute walk from here.”But despite his suggestion, an impish glint cast itself in Qrow’s half-lidded eyes; his voice scarcely rose above a whisper, husky and heavy as it spoke misconducts against his mouth. “Dunno, James. I’ve always wanted to make a mess of your office.”~In which Qrow tries and succeeds to pull James away from his work one afternoon.
Relationships: Qrow Branwen/James Ironwood
Comments: 15
Kudos: 131





	Downtime

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written any semblance of smut in some... Three years? So, I hope you enjoy the read while I try to dip my toes in it again. As always, heed the tags, and enjoy!

Perhaps no other small pleasure in all of Remnant was further from James' reach than a break from the many burdens of his workday.

And considering the circumstances, it was no wonder. The workload of a man in his position—in his _multiple_ positions, no less—did not lend itself well to reprieve from such endless duties. They were beyond mere occupations, as they always had been, and the responsibilities bearing down on his shoulders in any given day would have broken the backs of many a-lesser person. Preparation for the communications tower, the impending threat of Salem, the upcoming elections, the heightened unrest in Mantle—

Well, to say he could hardly afford to be distracted on a good day was to understate the ever-running frenzy of his mind.

Still, in the event of an _insisted_ respite from his work, he could think of no finer distraction than the warm, familiar tongue currently prodding in haste at the crease of his lips.

He opened his mouth against the barrage, and as Qrow slid past to taste him in turn, a soft hum rippled out from some unidentifiable spot beneath his ribs. One moment, the other man had been sitting on the edge of his desk, swinging a leg to and fro as they caught up on the “easier” topics these past months had wrought—of which, they had discovered between a slew of awkward pauses, there existed almost none. The next moment, Qrow had either hand curled around the lapels of his overcoat, and his ever-eager tongue had all but lapped away the unspoken words from behind his teeth.

There would be time for proper explanations, for confiding in one another. But for now, such seconds as these were rare, and he could think of a multitude of better ways to spend them.

Freeing himself from the snare of the other’s mouth, James leaned back until the base of his scalp pressed against the headrest of his office chair. Qrow’s lips chased after him again, halted only by the finger that James placed perpendicular to his mouth. “Qrow, I have work to do.”

“That’s what I’m worried about.” His words sent little vibrations against the sensitive pad of his finger. “Doesn’t take a genius to see how overworked you are. You’ve barely said anything to me since we got here.”

That shrewd tongue of his darted out again, this time taking a swipe at the gloved finger still planted firmly at his mouth. James shuddered at the sensation and drew his free hand up in front of his ever-warming face. As Qrow stepped forward between his knees, James became increasingly aware of the swift rise and fall of Qrow’s chest before his eyes, emphasized only further by the puffs fluttering out enticingly against his face. Some deep-set corner of his mind wanted those quickened breaths heightened evermore, drawn out in gasps beneath his mouth.

Perhaps the absence of Qrow’s touch this past year or so had finally caught up with him.

“That said…” Qrow continued, still hovering above James' spot in the office chair. The faint scent of cinnamon toothpaste lingered in the air between them. “If you really have that much to do, I’ll back off. Just say the word, Jim.”

James' gaze wandered a moment more between Qrow’s face and the council tablet sitting tantalizingly beside the leg of his desk. A better man would know when to push his lover away and instead set his fervor on the duties expected of him. A better man would know that matters of running his academy, matters of running his _kingdom_ , held far greater importance in the grand scheme of Remnant than matters of his heart.

But, then, James had never considered himself to be a “better man” under most circumstances—far from it.

And so, with a defeated sigh, he trailed his finger from Qrow’s lips to the ridge of his jaw and, tugging him roughly forward, crashed their mouths together again.

Qrow’s surprise at the motion came forth in a throaty _“hmmmf”_ against his mouth, but he soon returned the kiss with a fervent greed. Blunt nails lifted to drag along the shorter black hairs at James' neck, and a tremorous breath wafted out from the nose smushed against James' cheek. In the madness of elections and Amity and Atlas and Mantle and _existence_ , he hadn’t noticed just how needy his nerves had gotten for some sort of stimulation like this. In an instant, he needed Qrow’s presence beside him, above him, beneath him—frankly, he wasn’t fully sure _where_ he needed him, as long as he remained ever-nearer than he had been these past months.

For all of the distances that had ever existed between them, self-imposed and otherwise, something in the year-or-so since the fall of Beacon made it inexplicably _harder_ to be away this time. Perhaps it was the greater permanence their relationship had taken on, or the greater permanence in _everything_ that had happened since Vale, but this time was different. This time, he was _adamant_.

With a winded, heaving chest, James broke away for a moment; an excess of saliva was already building behind his teeth, and he swallowed. “My quarters are a five minute walk from here.”

But despite his suggestion, an impish glint cast itself in Qrow’s half-lidded eyes; his voice scarcely rose above a whisper, husky and heavy as it spoke misconducts against his mouth. “Dunno, James. I’ve always wanted to make a mess of your office.”

James' brow tensed at the insinuation, and he studied the other’s face for a moment in questioning. While comments of this nature weren’t _uncommon_ from him by any means, did he realize the risks involved in fucking _right here and now_? The lingering scents, the wide-open windows, the chance of intrusion in the event of an emergency…

Despite his hesitation, however, those enchanting red eyes lured him back in like a siren’s song, and it wasn’t long before their mouths were once again assailing one another with an aimless enthusiasm.

This might not have been one of his more _brilliant_ ideas, but damn his soul if it wasn’t enticing enough to pique his base lust’s interest.

Body hovering above him still, Qrow angled his head further and let a low, contented moan slip from the back of his throat. James all but drank the sound down like a tonic, and with each punctuated graze of Qrow’s tongue against his own, the familiar curl of a lascivious interest bloomed hotly along his nerves. Qrow was pliant and burning against the scourge of his mouth, and his head and heart wanted nothing more than to see Qrow splayed out and yielding under him.

As their lips separated with another wet _smack_ , James let his eyes flutter down to a residual trail of saliva that had flung back across Qrow’s chin. With twitching fingers, he lifted a gloved hand to wipe it away with the pad of his thumb. “Did you lock the door?”

“Yeah,” Qrow said with a half-shrug. “Think so.”

“ _Think_ so?”

“Look, Jim, I can walk over and triple-check that the door is locked. Or…” His languid gaze drifted down towards the slight tent already forming at the front of James' slacks. James didn’t miss the way his tongue darted out again to re-wet his lips at the sight. “I spend that time swallowing down that metal dick of yours.”

Neither he nor Qrow were generally inclined towards “dirty talk”—and almost all past attempts in doing so ended in a series of awkward pauses and quizzical laughter—but perhaps that served to make the occasional exchanges like this all the more alluring. This particular implication sent a twitch directly to the half-interested cock in question, punctuated by the dangerous gleam in Qrow’s eyes.

Exchanging a half-lidded look with him once more, James leaned forward again to press a chaste peck to his mouth. From there, he peppered a steady line of open-mouthed kisses down his chin and jaw; Qrow all but purred at the motion and draped his arms around James' neck. He sighed. “I’ll lock the door in a sec, Jim.”

James couldn’t deny the devil on his shoulder acknowledging the thrill of being caught in the act, at least theoretically, but he knew fully well that in practice, the results would be far less than _ideal_ , at absolute best. Perhaps Qrow was rubbing off on him more than he had thought.

Curling his tongue along the expanse of Qrow’s throat, James nudged his nose against his Adam’s apple, then stilled— _that_ was new. He blinked up at him a few times. “Are you wearing cologne?”

“A little bit,” came the response in tickly oscillations against his lips. “Found some in the guest room you got for me.”

James hummed warmly against his skin, grazing the edges of his teeth along Qrow’s pulse. In hindsight, there hadn’t been much reason to give Qrow a room to himself—after all, much of his time would likely be spent in James' quarters, considering their recent time apart. All the same, there was something a bit endearing in Qrow at least _entertaining_ the idea long enough to find the assortment of sample fragrances—standard for upper-class Atlesian guest rooms—below the sink. He smirked into the patchy hairs that lined Qrow’s jaw as a teasing thought rolled off the tip of his tongue. “Atlas smells good on you.”

“Don’t even joke.” Despite his words, the humored undertones in Qrow’s voice didn’t go unnoticed, and James gave a firm nuzzle into his skin. The other’s disdain for Atlas had stung him, once upon a time, but such things had since become trivial in the grander scheme of their lives.

One of Qrow’s hands untangled itself from behind James' head and drifted tantalizingly down the flat expanse of his chest. “That figures, though. Should’ve known the smell of Atlas would drive you crazy.”

Training his eyes on James' lap, he let his fingers skirt down across the taut zipper of his pants; James rolled his hips up against the hand as it shaped itself to more fully palm his arousal. Time had all but forgotten the feeling of those deft fingers on him like this, but even the muted sensation behind layers of fabric was enough to bring that familiar exhilaration rushing back. His fingertips curled deeper into the fabric of Qrow’s vest as the foreign hand slowly coaxed him harder.

“Qrow, you could probably smell like _anything_ right now.” A quiet sound slipped past his lips and interrupted his train of thought for a moment. “I don’t think I would care.”

“Heh. After all that time I spent on the road? You wouldn’t be saying that now.” With a light snort, Qrow pinched the zipper of James' pants and slid it down. The button above it unfastened as well with an emphatic _click_.

"Still… I'm glad you're here now." James' breath hitched as Qrow’s hands slipped past the seam of his underwear. His thoughts were high and hazy on the sensation of the other man's touch, and his shoulders slackened as he eased down into the slope of his chair. It always astounded him how much _better_ Qrow’s hands could feel caressing him than his own, and he found himself adding one more item to his mental list of reasons to lament their time apart. “You had me worried.”

As Qrow pulled his length free at last, James' eyelids fluttered shut. Each ring on the other’s fingers punctuated themselves against the sensitive metal of his cock with a rhythmic _clink_ —a sound that, by all means, should have been either incredibly annoying or downright laughable. Yet, given the many circumstances leading them both to this point, he found it nothing short of erotic.

“ _Qrow_ , I _…_ ” The other man’s name fell from his lips again, uttered as some ungodly amalgamation of curse and prayer. His cock grew heavier with each steady stroke of the other’s hand, and with another throaty groan, he cast his eyes across at Qrow’s lap. The slight protrusion at the front of his trousers said all that he needn’t, and so James lifted his hands to undo his pants as well. He felt himself twitch in ever-heightening interest as Qrow angled his hips forward once against his touch.

However, as his metal fingers hooked around the latch at the front of Qrow’s pants, they were held in place by a hand looping loosely around his wrist.

“Not now,” Qrow scolded. “No offense, but you’ve been a mess since I got here. Let me take care of _you_ for a minute, alright?”

The less-than-proper side of his mind considered retorting that he would be, quite literally, a far greater mess when this was all said and done, but common sense held his tongue in place. While he couldn’t deny a small sense of guilt for being the only one attended to, he had every reason to oblige the man so intimately encouraging him into fuller hardness like this. Besides, he couldn’t deny that the other’s apparent inclination towards making him feel good was extremely flattering in its own right.

With a few more accentuated strokes, Qrow hunched his shoulders in closer and drew himself down onto his knees. He shot a sly, toothless grin upward. “It’s been a while, hasn't it?"

James narrowed his eyes to match the half-lidded stare inquiring up at him. If Qrow was looking to be cheeky, he could jape right back—even if he knew, more than likely, he was merely playing into the other’s hands. “Could you be more specific? It’s been ‘a while’ since a lot of things.”

Qrow chuckled, and tiny puffs of air flitted from his throat to the stiff cock in front of him. Training his eyes on James' stare, he let his tongue flick out once to prod at the swollen metal head by his face. James braced his flesh hand tighter against the arm of his desk chair. “You know what I meant, _Jimmy_.”

With a gravelly hum, he nudged his mouth forward again and dragged the flat of his tongue up the underside of the pliant metal. As Qrow’s lips pressed a few languid, lingering kisses to the head, James clamped his prosthetic hand onto the hair at the back of his scalp and drew him closer; the tips of his fingers curled comfortably between silky strands of dark hair. For all of Atlas’s advancements in prosthetics, James found himself forever grateful that function and feeling had been mostly restored to the more _sensitive_ areas of his body, at least in the way of pleasure receptors. After all, as stunning as Qrow looked between his thighs like this, it was another thing entirely to feel the zeal and affection with which he sucked him off.

Glinting with a fresh sheen of saliva, his cock soon disappeared within the hot void of Qrow’s parted lips, and an undignified keen twisted itself around his vocal cords as he was taken in more fully. The intensity of all-encompassing warmth and wetness and _Qrow_ was almost overstimulating in itself, after so long in its absence. And _gods_ , he could sit and watch Qrow like this for a lifetime, so careful and fervid and _hungry_ , staring up at him with glossy eyes that spoke all of the words his occupied mouth couldn’t.

Fuck, if he wasn’t well beyond _enamored_ with this man.

After a few more moments of practiced suction, Qrow slid off with a wet _pop_ ; James chased after his mouth with a brief gyration of his hips, but otherwise let Qrow detach himself to reposition his legs more comfortably. He then cast James another starry-eyed smile and leaned in to press a brief, taunting kiss to the tip. His mouth and chin were obscenely sloppy by now, but he seemed to take little notice. James, meanwhile, couldn’t seem to fixate on much else, despite his mind’s after-haze in being blown. As alluring as Qrow’s unkempt sex look could be, a part of him wanted nothing more than to pull his face up and lave the skin clean himself.

Qrow snorted. “Don’t know if you’ve been this eager since we started seeing each other, Jim. Maybe we should take a year off from this more often.”

James rolled his eyes lightly at the insinuation, but as he opened his mouth to speak, a low _buzz_ indicating an arrival on his floor echoed from the hallway. Whatever words he’d wanted to say were stricken immediately from his mouth and mind, and his attention was forced downward to Qrow’s face centimeters from his cock.

The most basic part of him prayed dearly that Qrow had, in fact, remembered to lock the door. But, as it was, luck had not fallen in their favor.

With an exchange of horrified, wide eyes, James scooted his chair suddenly forward as the doors to his office slid open. Qrow was shoved back onto his rear, pinned awkwardly between the foot space under the desk and James' still-exposed crotch. A small guilt settled in the pit of his gut; he knew it was likely far from comfortable for the other man, but at this point, his thoughts could focus only on the possibility of the newcomer suspecting anything was amiss.

“Sir.”

And who else would saunter through the doorway but Clover Ebi, one of few acquaintances who knew _fully_ well about the nature of his relationship with a certain old crow.

Truthfully, he wasn’t sure whether that made these circumstances better or worse.

Regardless, for as lust-drunk as his mind was, he had recollection enough to dart his eyes briefly to the panel beside the door. It appeared that Qrow _had_ forgotten to lock it on his way in, and they had both, in turn, forgotten to double-check it in the heat of the last few minutes. His folded fingers clenched as he sat them as steadily as possible atop the desk; he leaned his body further forward and cleared his throat in a vain effort to recenter himself.

He wanted to think that, however futile it might be, there existed some small chance to keep the other at bay. He had no _choice_ but to think so, lest he succumb completely to his own humiliation.

“Clover.” He managed to find his voice at last, and hoped the intonation of his voice didn’t give away the deprived erection hiding beneath the lip of the desk. “Did you need something?”

“I have a briefing from Marrow,” Clover stated, and took another few steps forward. “Nothing too out of the ordinary, but we—um. Are you... feeling okay?”

But as Clover advanced, James lifted his palm out in front of him to stop him in his tracks. The discussion of Marrow almost made him wish he, too, could keep Clover from coming any nearer at the moment with the simple flip of a wrist.

“I’m… fine,” he said. “Just—”

 _Just what, James? Leave it on the desk? Give it here?_ His thoughts ran a mile a minute. Neither of those options seemed particularly _ideal_ given these circumstances, especially considering the reality that Clover would be exposed to if he came much closer than that.

“Just… send them to my—”

His request cut itself short, stolen away by the fresh sensation of Qrow’s tongue toying with his dick again beneath the table, and _gods_ did that feel shamefully _good_. All the same, what could have _possibly_ been going through Qrow’s mind for him to think this was an opportune time to suck him off? Furthermore, what was he _himself_ thinking as he shifted his foot forward under the desk not to kick Qrow away, but to guide him nearer still? He felt Qrow’s breath hitch in presumed surprise at the encouragement, but those carnal affections soon continued in the form of quiet, lazy slurps.

They both must have been absolutely out of their minds.

“—scroll.”

One of Clover’s eyebrows quirked upward as James finished his sentence at last, but he otherwise didn’t protest the suggestion. Instead, he glanced twice between his own scroll and James' face, which was now half-hidden behind a gloved metal hand.

“Just fighting off a headache.” To further underline his falsified story, he kneaded the space between his eyebrows in faux-pain. “I’ll take a look at the briefing soon.”

The caress of a ringed finger drew his teeth out over his lower lip, which was hidden behind the hand covering his face. Before his mind could register enough to gesture down at Qrow to slow down, the maddening sensation of chapped lips taking him in to the hilt all but rendered his brain to static. Nerve and muscle and wire on either side of his hips all begged his mind for permission to move, starved for as much of that sweet warmth as they could plunder. But nevertheless, he willed his body still, and managed to meet Clover’s face once more.

Biting back what would have been a _very_ undignified moan, he finally shoved his foot forward in a firm but gentle kick to deny Qrow any further; he thanked him mentally for having the sense to avoid verbal retaliation as James' toe gently met his ribs. The heat and suction stopped, then, as Qrow unlatched himself as silently as possible.

James swallowed. “Was there anything else, Clover? If not, you can be dismissed for the day.”

To his great relief, Clover shook his head, but the concerned expression on his face remained. “That’s all I needed, but… It’s only two o’clock.”

“You’ve been working hard. Take the afternoon for yourself.” The statement, passed over from behind his palm, served equally as a reassurance to himself; after all, Qrow had said almost the same thing to him mere minutes before. He spoke quickly, and his mind continued to shout incessantly at him to get Clover the _hell_ out of his office. “We can pick up on missions again tomorrow.”

Clover appeared to mull it over, and his hand scratched absently at the back of his head. All the same, he nodded at last and cast James one last look of concern. “Alright, but… Call my scroll if anything comes up. Happy to jump back in if you need me.”

James nodded his acknowledgment in return and waved as Clover turned to leave. He wasn’t sure whether Clover’s luck was to blame for keeping the situation beneath the desk a secret, but at this point he hardly cared enough to consider it. A deep sigh dragged itself out from his lungs as Clover’s back disappeared behind the shutting door at last.

Drawing his coat over his body, James flung himself backwards from the desk, and the incessant pounding of blood in his ears continued to give no signs of lessening. What had he been _thinking_ —how would he have explained any _iota_ of that situation, had Clover taken another five steps forward? And that was assuming Clover hadn’t _already_ seen anything, heard anything, deduced anything.

He rose from the chair, strode purposefully across the room and all but punched the “lock” button on the door panel with the back of his fist.

“Jim?” Qrow’s voice broke through his thoughts from across the room, and steady _clack_ of footsteps clued him into the other’s approach. James braced himself against the flat of the wall as Qrow spoke again. “... You okay?”

Through gnashed teeth, James managed a small “yes” and leaned his face forward onto his wrist.

“Do you think he noticed?” Qrow asked, continuing to interrupt his train of thought. “You know, I didn’t expect you to _agree_ to continue with Clover in the room. That’s pretty kinky.”

“ _Qrow_.”

James felt his face grow ever-hotter at the implication.

“Jim?” Qrow pressed again, and placed a firm hand on his shoulder. “Hey, James... Did I go too far?”

He wasn’t sure what it was, be it the continued huskiness of Qrow’s tone over his shoulder or the lust that continued to pound its pulse in his ears, but _something_ urged him to turn around and face Qrow more fully at last. With a heavy stare, he lifted his gaze to settle in on the other’s face; those cherry-colored eyes still held an eager voracity as they locked onto his own, but had also become marred with worry.

It was true that James was well beyond embarrassed, but none of that embarrassment deserved to be a burden on Qrow’s shoulders. And with the door locked tight, interruptions should be few and far between.

And besides, they were far from finished with their previous endeavors.

Lifting both of his hands, he cupped either side of Qrow’s jaw and tugged him forward to capture his lips again. And again. And _again_. And by the fourth time, he couldn’t get enough, inebriated by the surprised gasps each kiss stole forth from Qrow’s lungs. His fingers dropped from the other’s face for a moment as heat continued to curl along his nerves, and in a swift motion, he threw his overcoat aside, not once disconnecting himself from the equally greedy mouth devouring his own right back.

With a lewd smack, Qrow broke off for a moment to catch his breath; James filled the silence that would have followed by near-immediately attacking Qrow’s neck again in a continuation of his earlier onslaught. He never could have imagined that the taste and pliancy of another person’s skin could entice him like this, but there was an indescribable quality in the flesh beneath his tongue belonging to Qrow Branwen in particular that drove him _wild_.

Qrow laughed once, and James could all but hear the smirk dripping from his voice. “I take it that means you’re still up for more?”

As one of James' hands rose to comb along Qrow’s scalp, the other moved to finally cup the tent at the front of his trousers in response; a low gasp ghosted along the shell of his ear as Qrow circled his hips forward into the touch. The strain of his erection behind the zipper had grown quite pronounced already, and all but pleaded for the foreign hand stroking him to set it free. James worked open the clasp at the front of his pants as he pressed another peck to the exposed dip at the center of Qrow’s collarbone. His tongue danced across the jut of his clavicle before he smirked against the taut skin under his mouth. “Did you still want to make a mess of my office?”

“Like you even need to ask,” came the retort, sighed out on a trembling tongue. “You have everything we need in here?”

“Yes—top drawer of my desk.”

At that, Qrow’s brows raised, and he leaned back a moment to cast an inquisitive look James' way. “What, you actually keep lube _in your office_?”

“I’ve spent a lot of late nights up here,” James said, and meekly averted his eyes for a moment. He hoped Qrow could fill in the blanks himself—or at least, didn’t insist on making him explain it out loud.

Qrow continued to stare on at him with curious eyes, red rings around pupils blown wide. After a long pause, he finally managed a few words. “... That’s _really_ hot.”

Continuing his advances down Qrow’s chest—or at least, what he could access without removing his clothes completely—James backed the other man towards the desk. Qrow maneuvered himself to lean against the edge of the cold steel, shuddering as James' fingers finally unlatched the front of his trousers and pulled his hardened cock past the seam of his boxers. Swallowing, James let a low groan ripple from his throat as Qrow pulled his face back up for a sloppy kiss.

With a step forward, he slotted himself between Qrow’s spread legs and cupped the back of his neck, melding their mouths more roughly together. Red blotches had begun to bloom beneath the skin around Qrow’s mouth, rubbed raw from the repeated scratch of James' facial hair. Despite the beard burn, however, Qrow remained adamant, and broke off only once James reached down to tug at the belt line of his pants.

“Off,” James mouthed against parted lips, and helped Qrow strip his pants and underwear down to his ankles. With overeager fingers, he shifted his hips out of his own pants as well, letting them fall to the floor with a _clack_ as his belt buckle struck the ground. “Better?”

“It's a start,” Qrow said, grinning darkly, and looped his arms loosely around James' neck. With a measured step forward, he rolled his hips out in search of any friction the other’s hand or length could offer. “Still, could be even better.”

"You're impossible."

Encouraging the other’s hips forward again, James curled his flesh fingers around their cocks, and as he began to pump, a single shuddering breath passed between their lungs in the space between them. The sensation of skin on skin and metal drew forth a low moan from the back of his throat, an instinctual sound that never failed to startle him a bit coming from his own mouth. Still, the vocalization of his pleasure seemed to spur Qrow on, and the hot flesh in his hand bucked forward with a heightened adamance.

“See?” Qrow licked his lips. “Way better.”

James snorted, but otherwise couldn’t deny the truth in his words. This was far more the sort of discussion he had become accustomed to with Qrow in the bedroom—or, well, _wherever_ they may be, in this context. Teasing, praising, berating, babbling—given the limited breadth of his intimate relationships over the years, he wasn’t certain whether that was especially normal. But, then, perhaps it didn’t much matter. Perhaps it was enough that this was _them_ , wholly and completely, whether they were chatting over coffee or fucking each other raw.

Even in the throes of sex, Qrow was still _Qrow_ , and he was allowed to be as rawly _James_ as the other would have him. And Qrow had made it plenty evident, since well before they had started seeing each other more seriously, that he would have nothing less.

He continued to stroke them together for a while before slowing his hand to a still. “Can you reach the drawer?”

Qrow nodded and snaked his hand back towards the inner side of the desk; the gesture was halted only briefly as James shifted further between his legs again in search of friction. “Got it.”

He tugged the collar of Qrow’s shirt down and out a ways. Drifting upward towards his shoulder, James drew otherwise taut skin and muscle past his teeth and sucked a blemish at the juncture of his arm and shoulder. It would be hidden well behind the sleeve of his everyday outfit, but the low _mewl_ it drew from Qrow’s lips made the gesture well worthwhile. With an apologetic lap of his tongue over the lovebite, James reached out to pluck the lubrication from the other’s fingers.

“So let me guess,” Qrow started, and narrowed his eyes, “was that punishment for forgetting to lock the door?”

James blinked back at him. “That… Actually hadn’t cross my mind.”

“ _Right_.” Still eyeing him flatly, Qrow leaned further back against the edge of the desk, not quite sitting atop the cool metal surface. He draped his arms back around James' shoulders and tugged him up for another chaste peck on the lips, broken only by the sudden vibration of a scroll sitting idly at the corner of the desk.

James' stomach sunk. While the locked door had provided some degree of separation from the world outside of Qrow’s arms, he was still only allowed so much downtime from his responsibilities. With a gnawing guilt churning in his gut, he detangled himself from Qrow long enough to step beside him towards the desk. “Sorry, Qrow, just… Give me a minute.”

Doing his best to ignore the nagging pull of his arousal, he grabbed his scroll and eyed the screen for a moment. “Jacques Schnee.”

Qrow made a face and motioned his hand up, as if to grab the scroll from James' fingers. “Of all people in Atlas, he can wait. It can't be that important.”

While it was likely that Qrow had a gross misestimation of what made many of his phone calls “important”, James couldn’t deny that he was probably right, in this instance. With a hesitant swallow, he hovered his finger over the red button on the screen before bringing himself to slide it shut. If he had anything especially important to say, Jacques could leave a voicemail.

Still, that didn’t make the prospect linger any less in the back of his subconscious mind.

Tossing the scroll aside, he returned to his spot between Qrow’s legs with a sigh.

“Hey, you good to keep going, Jimmy?”

“Never better,” came the muttered response, and he kissed the bridge of Qrow’s nose in return with a low grunt. When the device across the room failed to buzz a second time, he breathed a bit easier and released some of the tension that had been hanging down on his shoulders. “But Qrow?”

“Mm?”

“If you call me _Jimmy_ again, I’m finishing myself and going back to work.”

Qrow widened his eyes at the empty threat, but nonetheless shot a vulpine smirk up at him. “During sex? When have I ever?”

“Qrow, you’ve _screamed_ it. A few times.”

“I don’t scream, _James_.”

“Last time, Ozpin could hear you from his office.”

“Oz has claimed a lot of things.”

“We were two stories under him.”

“Are you gonna stick it in me anytime soon, or do I need to fuck myself?”

His cheeks grew a few degrees hotter at the implication, something he didn't priorly think possible. "I, um. Right."

James peeled the gloves off of either hand and tossed them haphazardly aside. Popping the lid of the lube off with his thumb, he spread a healthy dollop onto his flesh fingers and massaged it to lukewarmth. In front of him, Qrow laughed out a few low breaths of air against the shell of his ear as he pulled him close again; their lengths nudged against one another in half-efforted ruts. “Just fuck me, you idiot.”

“I would take _idiot_ over _Jimmy_ any day,” came his response, almost without a second thought, and in the absurdity of it all he could feel the rapid rise and fall of Qrow’s chest against his in another, fuller fit of laughter.

Qrow let a blissful, vocal sigh slip out from the back of his throat as the levity of it all simmered down. “I’ve missed you, James.”

In addition to mirth and arousal, his voice had taken on the twinge of a tired lull, as though the weight of these past months continued to bear down on the slight hunch of his shoulders. Unfortunately, it was a feeling with which James, too, was intimately familiar, and the notion brought his nose in to nuzzle the rosy skin of his shoulder. “I’ve missed you too, Qrow.”

“Kind of a weird time to get sappy.” Despite his words, the corners of Qrow’s lips twitched upward. “But… I’d say we have a lot of lost time to make up for.”

His quick-beating heart fluttered. While he had certainly missed having Qrow beside him, his thoughts and actions had been otherwise occupied tenfold up to this point. But in seeing Qrow again at last, cuffed and captive and inconvenienced, all of that longing had clawed its way to the forefront of his mind again.

He had missed Qrow _dearly_ , and he only hoped that he would be allowed a moment’s reprieve from his duties here and there to revel in the other’s company these next weeks.

With softening eyes, James pressed another small kiss to the shoulder in front of him before crooking his lubed hand behind Qrow’s backside. “Ready?”

“Been ready for over a year, now.”

With a gentle shake of the head, James circled his entrance once, twice, and slipped a finger slowly past the threshold.

The other man stiffened against him for a moment, presumably adjusting to the sensation after so long without another person administering like this. Kissing his shoulder again, James set a slow rhythm with his finger, soon slipping a second inside to join in tandem. It wasn’t long before audible breaths cascaded like honey from Qrow’s tongue, heavy and sweet against his ear as James hooked his fingers just so and grazed his prostate.

They remained as such for a pause, with James' fingers easing Qrow into the rhythm and breadth of sensations long forgotten, before Qrow squeezed his hand tighter once around James' shoulder. “Dick, _now_. Or I’m making good on my word about fucking myself.”

“Alright.” James snorted lightly, strangling down a sound of his own as Qrow bucked against his erection again. Pulling his fingers out, he squeezed another generous amount of lubrication onto them and slathered his cock as best he could. “Turn.”

Impatiently, Qrow whirled himself around and braced his forearms against the hard top of the desk. “You know, in hindsight, this isn’t the most comfortable place we could’ve done this—”

The words faded to a cacophony of curses and keening on his tongue as James started to push himself in. Given his words, however, James peered down at him with concern and stopped his hips partway. “Do you want to do this somewhere else?”

“Don’t _stop_.” Qrow shot a glare back at him, face flushed and tense from the sensation. “James, move!”

“Right, right.”

He pushed himself in a bit further and gave a shallow thrust to test the waters. As if the snug heat guiding him inside wasn’t enough to rouse him further, the brief sound of his desk legs shifting forward from the motion had all but rendered him thoughtless. After a few shorter thrusts, he pushed himself in near-fully, and a heady exhale that he hadn’t been aware of holding tumbled out from his lungs. The tight warmth enveloping the pliant metal of his cock was already driving him wild, impelled ever further by the sounds spilling from Qrow’s mouth before him. Gripping the red cape splayed out at Qrow’s back, he leaned forward and rolled his hips a few more times. “Good?”

“Getting there,” Qrow croaked through gritted teeth, and shifted his hips in turn as he adjusted to the feeling. “Again, though, _move_. _Please_.”

The strangled plea tacked on at the end caught James' breath in his throat again. He removed his hand from Qrow’s cape and instead gripped either side of his hips. Firm, battle-scarred skin settled in dimples beneath his touch, and with one last breath to ground himself, he pulled partway out before bucking his hips back in. The slap of flesh-on-metal-on-flesh echoed lewdly in the otherwise stagnant silence of the office that surrounded them, marred in tandem only by the saccharine sounds falling more freely now from Qrow’s lips. The first time they had come together like this, they had been beside themselves at the raw vocalizations drawn from their lungs by the other’s touch. By now, however, those sounds were familiar, were _exhilarating_ , and each sound served as an aphrodisiac to the senses in their own right.

The desk shifted again beneath the snapping push-pull of James' hips, and Qrow’s nails dragged forward and backward against the metal surface in desperation for any form of leverage. Gasps continued to dance off of his tongue with each cyclical brush of James' cock against his prostate, broken only by an occasional curse or utterance of the other man’s name a few octaves too high, and his hips bucked wildly against the desk top in search of friction.

With a quick re-wetting of his lips, James removed his metal hand from Qrow’s hip and reached around to wrap easily around his cock. “Better?”

"Better," he managed, and it wasn't long before the grimacing discomfort on his face melted away into something far more pleasured. With each stroke of his hand matching the rhythm of James's hips, the breaths from Qrow's lungs soon gave way to near-sobs, and each cry milked from his tongue set James panting out his name in return.

Pulling the other’s hips tighter back against his groin, he craned his body at a different angle and drove in faster, _deeper_ , chasing the spoils of orgasm that drew ever-nearer for them both. The metal hand around Qrow’s cock continued to pump in time with James' thrusts, building a cadence that played to the tune of each sweet warble still spilling from Qrow’s tongue.

With a breathless grunt in turn, James bent himself forward a bit. He snaked his other hand under Qrow's left arm and clasped it tightly on the right side of his chest. In his hold, Qrow was guided back slightly off of the desk; the contact brought Qrow’s neck craning back over his shoulder in confusion. “Um—Hey.”

At that, James panted out a short laugh and idly grazed his teeth across the exposed jut of Qrow’s shoulder blade; the collar of his top had fallen loose to the side in their enthusiasm. “Hey, Qrow.”

The pressure at the base of his cock burned hotter still, and the fervency with which his hips pounded into Qrow grew primal, driven on by instinct and a desperation for release. With each utterance of the other’s name betraying his desires, he reverently planted his lips again on the back laid out before him—all tongue and teeth and lips, half-missing cloth and skin in the process but hardly noticing in the throes of near-climax. All that registered in his mind is that Qrow was here with him, in taste and sound and touch, caving to his every motion like James was all could ever want and need. It was electric, maddening, and his head had all but given way to fog as the familiar euphoria of release shot up through his groin at last.

Tightening his hold on Qrow’s tremorous body, James buried his face in his shoulder as his hips twitched and rolled through the last sensations of orgasm. It was dry and mechanical, as it had been every time since the accident, but the mimicked sensations of an actual release shuddered through his hips all the same. Beneath him, Qrow continued to quiver, and beads of sweat now matted his bangs to the cusp of his forehead. It took only four more tugs of his straining cock before he, too, was brought to finish.

For some time, neither made any motion to move, bathing in the afterglow of spent lungs and vermilion faces. Across the room, James' scroll gave another tired buzz, indicating a text message, but it went unnoticed against the laborious panting that otherwise echoed in either of James' ears. As they each settled back down to reality, James loosened his hold on Qrow’s body and, carefully as he could manage, pulled his spent cock out of his hole. With eyes glossy and half-focused, he settled at last on Qrow’s shoulder in front of him, which was awash in a healthy shade of scarlet—and if that wasn’t becoming as _sin_ against the hazy red eyes staring leisurely back at him, he didn’t know what was.

Still, for as wonderful and overdue as that had been, neither would be ready for another round of anything for quite some time, and the very thought was enough to make him shiver.

He pressed a final peck to Qrow’s shoulder before stepping away to stretch his tired limbs. “Hey, Qrow?”

“Y-Yeah, Jim?”

“Thinking back on it, I’ve... never tested the soundproofing in this room, before today.”

“And you just thought of that now?” Qrow responded with a voice still hoarse from their escapades, and James stifled a small smile. There was something oddly satisfying in being the one to render him so undone. “Kind of a big oversight for someone like you, isn’t it?”

“That's not something I normally have to think about,” he said simply. “And no. I thought about it after you shouted my name. The _fifth_ time.”

And _oh_ , if he could file away the look of genuine incredulity that crossed the other’s face, he would pocket it for a _lifetime_. “Five times. I didn't.”

It was, in fact, about twice that, if his count had been accurate, but he wasn’t one to tease Qrow too much about his particularly _chattier_ habits when it came to sex. After all, beyond even his base adoration of the man, Qrow had been and continued to be the best sexual partner he’d had in his lifetime. Committed, receptive, candid with what he was and wasn’t okay with… and, frankly, no man had ever taken one look at the less-than-flesh half of his body and accepted it with such refreshing _nonchalance_. He’d held no disregard for it, but rather acknowledged it and shrugged it off as, in an intimate context at least, no less a part of himself than the jagged scars that painted Qrow's body.

It had taken James mapping out those scars with his tongue and feeling Qrow melt against his mouth to fully understand what he meant by that, all those nights ago.

Stepping around to the other side of the desk, James slid the drawer open and withdrew a white rag which, after wiping the residual mess from his hands and dick, he tossed Qrow’s way for cleanup. The gesture seemed to remind them both of the direction Qrow had been facing in the height of orgasm, however, and their attention was mutually drawn to the now-sullied surface of James' desk.

Qrow snorted back a low snicker at the sight. “You know? I’m _never_ gonna look at that desk in the same way again.”

Loathe as James was to admit it, Qrow had a solid point—it would take months, if not years, to ignore the ghost of Qrow’s tongue heavy on his cock every time he sat at his desk. After tugging his pants back on, James drew his fingers over his mouth at the thought, but tried to recenter his attention on more pressing matters. He fought back a yawn that begged to crawl out from the back of his throat. “I need... a minute.”

“Age starting to catch up with you?” Qrow teased as he pulled his bottoms up and refastened them as best as he could.

“We’re the same age.”

“Yeah, and I had a metal dick up my ass, but you don’t hear me complaining about how tired _I_ am.” Qrow crossed his arms across his chest, shifting his weight between either leg. James wagered he wasn’t as unaffected by that fact as he claimed, but he held his tongue. “Besides, you _are_ older than me.”

“You think that extra year I have on you makes all the difference?”

The low hum of his scroll again drew their attention from each other and towards the corner of the room. James grimaced; that was as clear a sign as any that the time for recess from his duties was over.

“We should… clean up. I need to get back to work.”

“I'm gonna guess that there’s nothing I can say to stop you,” Qrow said with a sigh. He folded his arms across his chest, but met James' eyes once again with a gentle fondness as he sat himself gingerly atop the desk again. “Mind if I stay up here a while?”

James raised an eyebrow at him, but couldn’t deny the delight swelling in his chest at the idea. “I assumed you would have had enough of me, after that."

At his words, Qrow only hummed; he absently flung the rag in his hands over a filthy spot on the corner of the desk. “Hey, you heard me earlier. We’ve got a lot of time to make up for. Besides, now I need to make sure you’re not gonna pass out on me.”

And despite everything—ignoring the snark Qrow tacked on at the end—he was right. Time, like many other scarce commodities, had become evermore precious as Salem’s threat drew nearer. A part of himself doubted his ability to set aside work for reprieve, as his relationship with Qrow certainly didn’t help keep Salem at bay, or help the inner workings of his Kingdom run more smoothly, but perhaps that was something he could come to accept.

And if the lingering, sleepy smile on Qrow’s face beside him was any indication, it was time he would learn to make in earnest.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos, comments, and bookmarks are all welcome and appreciated!
> 
> You can also track me down on tumblr at [lilac-bellfrog](https://lilac-bellfrog.tumblr.com/).


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